


roseate ties

by LearaBribage



Series: shifts in the folds of time [3]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables (TV 2000), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Death, EnjonineWeek, EnjonineWeek2019, F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Mythology - Freeform, TW: Suicide, day 7: generations, enjonine - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 21:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20280148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearaBribage/pseuds/LearaBribage
Summary: Éponine and Enjolras as Antigoné and Haemon before and after her death from Sophocle's "Antigoné."The beginning and the end of my trilogy, "shifts in the folds of time".





	roseate ties

The skies were roseate on her death. She raised her eyes, observing the pink hues blend softly with the swirling orange clouds before turning into a violent haze. It would be the last time she saw of the sweet sun.

Like rain, she shall mark the earth then scurry away. Here now, and soon gone forever. Forever lost in time.

In spite of it, she heard his voice all the same.

“There’s something sacred,” he’d whispered against her skin, her eyes drooping with sweet, tantalising darkness, “something holy about loving you.”

She remembered how her fingers curled in the ripples of his fair hair. How she pressed her lips on his soft mouth, swimming in the jostles of wave after wave of his love.

And so much like the glow of distant stars during that rare night-time sky, she remembered her response, “Our love is god.”

It would be the last time she saw of her beloved in pure bliss.

For today she must die. Alone with the sable silks of this yet-explored tomb. The elders of Thebes had not even sang her a song. They had simply led her to the cave and gone with the waves of false justice. Heart sinking, she could not blame them, for it seemed even the gods have forgotten her prayers and her tributes.

She walked aimlessly, all life gone from the grace of her footsteps.Unmourned and uncelebrated she will be, the dusk of her lashes falling with bittersweet tears.

Finding a cliff, she kept herself determined. She looked towards the blank horizon and closed her eyes. When she breathed her last, she thought only of him.

Her last sweet sun.

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted for a long time to return to my favourite Sophoclean tragedy, "Antigoné," but it was hard because to write in that kind of mental headspace would involve too much heartbreak on my end. So I've resolved to try it for EnjonineWeek2019 in hopes of finally putting an end to it. I've made it as brief as possible because it's tiring to go back. 
> 
> -
> 
> "Our love is god" is, of course, from Heathers. It was just too raw a line to ignore, plus I wanted to bring that sense of entitlement and pride in the story.


End file.
